Affliction
by LegitHumann
Summary: When Izzy's parents are brutally murdered by demons at age 5, she is finally ready for her revenge at age 17. This complicates when the Winchesters get involved... **No main-character love attraction**
1. Prologue

(Yes, I know this is a _very_ short prologue. Suck it up.)

Prologue

I was only five when it happened. I remember lying in bed, and looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that my dad had super-glued to the ceiling on my last birthday. This was the first time that my parents had fought. I heard kids talking about it in my kindergarten class, how their parents would fight.

"My momma screamed at my dad one time..."

"My dad gets so angry..."

"My mommy yells ALL the time!

but i never thought it would happen to me. If I had known what it meant to truly fight, and what it meant when i heard my mom's blood-curdling scream, maybe I would have interfered. Or maybe I would have ran... I don't know. When my mom had begged for mercy, I thought it was a normal thing to do. I was young, and simply didn't have experience with this kind of thing.

I decided to block out the sounds of their screaming by concentrating on the soft green glow. I tried to imagine I was somewhere in the abyss of space, floating around, discovering new planets and stars. This always seemed to calm me down when I would wake up from a nightmare, but this was a different kind of nightmare. The kind that you have when you're not sleeping, and the fear of being hurt is vivid and alive.

My mother burst into my room. If it hadn't been for her bright golden hair, I might not of have known it was her. Before she could even look at me, she turned around and locked the door, hands wildly shaking. She almost seemed to sprint to the spot next to me on my bed. Tears were running down her face.

"Izzy come here." she said in a breaking tone. If I had been as mature then as I was now, I would have understood the severity of the situation. Not knowing or understanding what was happening, I wasn't worried about what was happening on the other side of the door. I lifted my head and leaned on her arm. She grasped my head with her other hand. Her breathing was irregular.

"What happened mommy?" I remember saying.

"You have to go away Izzy. Away from mommy and daddy." She squeezed my head tighter, and my shirt was almost soaked with tears. Before I could reply, a strange, altered voice of my father taunted me,

"Aren't you gonna open the door for your daddy, Izzy?"

There was a bang on the door. My mother screamed back, bawling harder than ever. "GO AWAY! LEAVE US ALONE!"

"Oh Catherine. You always were a pain in my ass." There was a bang, joined with a loud crack. I peered around my mothers shaking body to look at the door. It was cracked, straight down the middle. And through the crack I could see my Dad. Only, He wasn't my dad. His shimmering black eyes shown through, scaring me. That's when the tears began to roll down my cheeks.

"Shhhh... Baby you have to leave now. Out of the window, come on" Her voice was breaking, it was evident she was terrified.

"But mommy, what's gonna happen to you?"

She looked at me through glossed eyes, her tear stained face mournful.

BANG BANG. Daddy was trying to open the door with an axe.

"I want you to run. Run as fast as you can. Do you know where we used to live? The empty, creepy house?" We were at the window now, while the hole in the door grew ever so thicker. BANG BANG BANG.

"Yes mommy."

"Good. Run there and I'll..." her face looked strained, and distressed. As if debating her next words. "I'll meet up with you in a few hours time. If I'm not there by morning, run away." BANG. BANG.

My father began to speak, words strung out and slurred, as if to taunt us.

"I'm gonna gut you, and that small bitch too!" He was almost inside the room now, a small child could have fit through the opening.

My mom gripped me tight and set me on the grass outside the window.

"Run, Baby, Run."

My father burst through the door, and i ducked down, as not to be seen.

"Hello, Catherine. Where are you hiding my daughter?"

"She's not yours."

I wanted to peer up, to see my mother and support her. But I knew she wanted me out of sight, and away from prying eyes. Subconsciously, I knew I had to run. Something was holding me back though, I needed to see my mother one last time. There was a complete silence for a few seconds, before finally, I heard a scream.

It was my mom. My mom wasn't dead though, or at least that's what I had convinced myself at the time. It was silent for what felt like an eternity.

When I was sure that that... thing... had left, I stood up, peering through the ajar window.

What I saw that night, I will never be able to un-see. My mom was lying on the floor, eyes wide open, and not breathing. How could she breathe, though? There was a knife, still stuck in her torso, causing blood to pool around it. She was dead, and she had died in a blood puddle.

"Mommy!" I climbed through the window, only to fall into some of the blood. Now my shirt, (and hands) were drenched in thick, warm, blood. I crawled over to my mom.

"No, Mommy. Come back! Please!" I was crying harder than ever, and soon I was barely able to make out her mutilated figure through my blurring vision, resting silently on the cold, hard wood. I can't let her go away like this. I pulled the knife out of her chest, and wiped it off on my already blood soaked shirt.

"I love you, mommy."


	2. Chapter 1

12 Years Later

Izzy shoved the blade up to his neck. His shimmering black eyes brought memories flooding back to her. She was stronger now. Braver. And she could really deal damage, now that she was almost an adult.

"Tell me... where... is... he?" She paused in between words to slice small but painful cuts into his throat. She wanted answers, and she was bound to get them.

The demon spit in her face. His expression contorted into a malevolent smile.

"You think this is funny?!" She sputtered.

"I think it's hilarious," His voice was hoarse, and it was indisputable that he had been tortured to the breaking point. He didn't care what she did to him, as long as he could get into her head. "That you want to sign up to be Crowley's bitch." He turned away, fixated on a point on the floor.

He turned back to face her and cocked his head. "Stupid little insect. I would pity you... you know, if i actually cared."

Izzy glared at him with a hatred not even she knew she could possibly display. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I can tell you, Crowley would never even talk to you. The king of hell doesn't waste his time with whiny-human-brats."

The way he said "humans" like it was an insult made Izzy want to gag.

"At least I'm not a heartless murderer, like you."

"Oh you have no idea..."

Izzy was flung across the room, and onto the wall sitting directly behind her. She had seen demons use telekinesis before, but they had never thrown her this hard. As her head struck the wall, she could immediately tell that the blow had caused some serious damage.

As soon as she regained her senses, she looked over to the demon. She was so dizzy though, everything was a blur. She could feel unconsciousness creeping up to drag her down, and she knew that this fight wasn't going to last long. No use waiting to die. I have to come up with a plan...

The demon laughed a twisted, evil laugh. "You didn't even make the devil's trap right! I knew were dumb, and you don't disappoint. Did you really think you could take me down?!"

She blinked a few times in an attempt to clear her vision, but to no avail.

"Well jackass," Izzy closed her eyes. Leaving them open to see the world spin would just worsen the pain in her already-pounding skull. "You got me... Go ahead and kill me."

"I would," He picked up the reddened blade that she had apparently dropped when she was thrown. "But that would be too easy. What do you say I give you a few scars before I knock your lights out."

"Eat me."

He began to stride over to her, the silver knife reflecting the light beaming through the windows ever so perfectly, so that it was the center of attention, intimidating. The old, rotting door on the other end of the room burst open.

Two men came through the door, one was really tall with long dark hair ending just above his shoulder, and the other was shorter with light brown hair. The tall one had a gun, already loaded and ready to use, while the second one had a knife with a few of symbols running down the side of the blade. They weren't here to play games.

The demon recognized them. He glared at the the 2 men who now had their attention (and weapons) fixated on him.

"Winchesters. I knew this had your stink all over it... This dumb bitch had to be involved with you." His words floundered as the shorter one walked up to him, readying his knife.

"Look here, chuckles. I came here drink and stab black-eyed scumbags. And I'm all out of whiskey."

The last thing Izzy's dwindling consciousness allowed her to hear, was the demon's screech of imminent death.

Winchesters.


	3. Chapter 2

When Izzy came to, she was strapped to a chair in what seemed to be a dungeon of sorts.

Shit.

There was a devils trap underneath her, and she recognized the difference between her "wrong" one, and this one. She looked around the room, and the fear started to bubble up inside of her. How in the hell am I going to get out of this? If I die now, than my mother died for nothing. Why do I have to be so stupid? I guess I never had a choice... If I was stronger maybe I wouldn't have passed out so quick... her thought were swimming in a pool of guilt and frustration. Now, all she could do is wait and see. Wait and see what would happen next, it was as if her life was a poorly written book, and the writer seemed to not even know what was going to happen next.

Her head showed no signs of ever being hurt, which she filed under the "I'm about to die, oh well" category. She was confused about it, but honestly she was just thankful. It will be a lot easier to escape without exploding head. You know, if she can.

She heard a door creak open and a lock click. Yay. She assumed they were there to torture her and kill her afterwords. She didn't mean to be negative, but after seeing what she had seen, the evil she had witnessed, she felt entitled.

Suddenly, the solid (or so she thought) wall in front of her moved and separated into a doorway. Where AM I?

The two men from before walked in. The taller one suspicious and the shorter one looked like he wanted to snap a neck. Not specifically her neck, just neck in general.

"Just get it over with."

The two men shot each other looks, but with what emotion, Izzy couldn't place.

"We just want some answers. I'm Sam, and this is my brother Dean."

They looked at her with anticipation, evidently expecting her to tell them her name. She debated lying, and soon came to the realization that all it was was a name. They could do nothing to her with it, and she didn't have any family for them to find.

"Izzy." She stated.

Dean spoke up. His snarky tone taunting and almost sarcastic,"Well Izzy, you mind telling us what you were doing torturing that demon?"

Izzy decided that if they were going to kill her anyways, there was no point in holding back. But what if they were going to spare her? If she told them what she was really planning, she would definitely die. "I was torturing that demon for information on a demon named Crowley." That at least was the truth.

Sam looked at Izzy questioningly, clearly the name had sparked some interest, "Why do you want Crowley?"

They know who Crowley is, maybe they can help me. Well, they certainly wont help me if I tell them the truth.

"I want revenge on the demon that killed my family, and killing the king of hell would send a very definite message towards said demon." There it was. That was the big lie.

"Alright give me one good reason why I shouldn't call CPS right now." Dean said. He wasn't joking, and going back into Child Protective Services was something Izzy promised herself never to do, willingly, at least. Honestly, the thought of being dragged to a shady foster home struck more fear into her than the thought of dying.

"I'm seventeen, which means I will be a legal adult soon, and when they throw me to another foster home, i'm just going to escape... I've done it before. It's honestly not that hard. I'm going to hunt and kill Crowley, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, right before they turned around to face the currently-open-doorway. They tried to whisper, but they clearly didn't have any concept of volume.

"Sam, I am not working with some kid. She's going to get herself killed."

"Exactly," Izzy couldn't see his face, but Sam sounded convincing, "She's going to go after Crowley and get herself killed, okay. But if we help her, maybe we can kill Crowley and save the kid. Everybody wins."

Dean clearly didn't want to work with her, and Sam was reluctant as well, but neither of them could dismiss the fact that Sam had a point, and Crowley needed exterminating.

Dean turned to Izzy. His face grudging and a little bit annoyed.

"Well, we tested you while you were out. You're clean, but you need a few days to rest up." The words slipped off dean's tounge as if they were poisonous. He was not okay with Izzy staying there, but where else could she go?

"Why? I feel completely fine." She looked at them puzzled. Maybe now was the time she got her explanation.

Sam was the one that answered, "Well, we had our buddy Cas come and heal you, but he's not at his best." Deans eyes shifted to a spot on the floor. Whoever this "Cas" was, he was severely important to the brothers. "So he was just able to shift away the pain, temporarily..."

"Great. How long do I have until I'm a drooling mess?"

Dean chuckled. He was evidently fond of sarcastic humor. "I don't know. could be an hour, could be a week."

"Well, regardless, How about you get me out of these cuffs?

She hadn't realized how much her wrists were hurting until she saw the damage the cuffs had done. There was a purple ring around each of her wrists, indicating that the restraints were tight enough to bruise. She rubbed her left wrist with her right hand, and then she switched, trying to sooth both wounds.

Thank god she was out of them.

She followed them up some stairs and into a main living area, complete with a world-map table and many bookshelves.

Izzy was dumbfounded. She had never seen anything more amazing in her life. There was even a samurai sword in the corner on a plaque.

She was going to like it here.


End file.
